Start Again
by PurpleCadet
Summary: Harvey and Donna slowly start over. Set in Season 5, somewhere after 'Compensation'. Will be multi-chapter.
1. Prologue

**So I've been really stuck when it comes to writing fic lately but I've been dying to write something like this for ages so here it is. I actually have chapter outlines for this one so even if I get a bit slow with updates, it won't be left unfinished. The title and subsequent lyrics come from the amazingly gorgeous song 'Start Again' by Conrad Sewell (which unfortunately like _Suits,_ I do not own). **

* * *

_So I guess I'm gonna let you go,_

 _But you get to keep a little bit of my soul._

* * *

 **Prologue**

It's ten past way too fucking early in the morning but there was no way she was going to have this conversation at night. Honest conversations late at night have never been anything but trouble for the two of them. If he can still accost her at her apartment in the middle of the night, then she has every right to bang on his front door before he's even had his morning dose of caffeine.

She hears a deep groan, then the sound of the door latch.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

His voice is flat, devoid of any emotion. _As if he has the right to be pissed off in this situation…_

She pushes her way past him and he limply follows after her. She's glad she made the decision to come before work, ready and armed in her sleekest black dress and her tallest red Manolos. He looks nothing like her regular opponent in his white t-shirt and faded sweats.

"If you're here to lecture me I hope you brought another cactus."

Donna ignores him. Her body is vibrating with pent up anger and she wants to smack that tired, smug expression from his face. She throws her handbag on the counter, almost knocking an empty tumbler onto the tiles.

"I have done nothing but try to make this an easy transition for _you,_ " she yells. He furrows his brow, but she continues before he has any chance for a rebuttal. "But Jesus, Harvey, I cannot make this any clearer… **I am not coming back**."

He recoils as if she actually did slap him.

"And treating me like I'm some prize to be won in battle isn't going to do anything to change that fact."

Harvey sighs and runs a hand through his already messy hair. "Fucking Louis."

She narrows her eyes. "This has nothing to do with Louis."

Harvey looks up at her sharply. "It has _everything_ to do with Louis. That asshole just couldn't wait to report back to you."

"What does it matter if he told me? You still said it."

Harvey paces the length of his kitchen, ready to launch into a tirade. "He just _loves_ this. He's always gone after what's mine, he's been scrambling for years just to get a piece of what I have."

"Oh my god, do you hear yourself?!" she asks incredulously.

He stops pacing. "What?"

"I'm not something you own, Harvey!"

He winces. "I know that," he says quietly.

She shakes her head, tearing her eyes away from him. "I don't think you do."

"Is this about your salary?"

 _Good lord, he could be so dense sometimes._

"Among other things," she says vaguely.

"Can you stop being so goddamn cryptic and just say what the hell you mean for once?" he snaps at her.

She wants to laugh at the total hypocrisy of his statement when the last ten years of their relationship has been about trying to get him to admit to having any shred of human emotion.

"You're acting like a possessive ex-boyfriend," she informs him.

Harvey releases a bitter laugh. "That's ridiculous."

"Yeah, it is. Because we both know that's not how you feel and yet…"

"Donna, what do you want from me?"

She's heard this question from him a dozen times over and she's rarely been able to answer honestly.

Her shoulders sag. "I want you to want me to be happy," she admits.

A look of guilt washes over his face. "Of course I want that."

She swallows the lump in her throat and speaks carefully, "Then _please_ let me go. I need this to be over."

She watches him inhale deeply, eyes cast downward, trying to maintain his breathing. He slowly sits onto the stool in front of the counter. After a long moment he looks up at her.

"Donna…it kills me to see somebody else sitting at your desk."

Her heart wrenches at the admission, but she isn't going to break this time. She can't keep letting him blindly walk all over her and not realise how much _that_ is killing _her._ She can't keep being everything to him except the one thing that she needs him to be for her. She's been in love with him for far too long already.

"Harvey, please. I need you to respect that this is what I want," she says softly.

"What about what I want? Does that matter?"

Donna smiles sadly. "That's all that's ever mattered, Harvey."

He doesn't say anything in response. She'd been prepared for a screaming match when she arrived on his doorstep. She'd rehearsed that scenario, and they'd been doing so well just a few moments ago, finally having the fight that they never had when she quit. Ending with a bang, and all that. But here they are now, their twelve years together coming to a quiet, official end at his condo in the early hours of a Wednesday morning.

Harvey turns away from her and walks over to the front door. He makes a point of opening it wide for her. Donna doesn't need a house to fall on her; she snatches her handbag and leaves his condo without another word uttered from her mouth or his.

The door slams shut behind her.

She hails a cab outside his building and spends the whole drive to the office convincing herself that she did the right thing.


	2. Chapter 1

**Wow season 5 has been quite a ride already. So I've incorporated most of the events of episode 3 except for the mini fight Donna and Harvey had since the prologue was basically my version of that. Thanks so much to those who have reviewed so far!**

* * *

 _They say you never miss it 'til it's gone,_

 _Well you're gone and I wish I'd done it better._

* * *

 **Chapter One**

It's been a whole month, the longest they've ever gone without speaking. He'd prefer to be going at each other's throats than to have nothing with her at all. They aren't even friends, which, if he's being honest, is what actually hurts him most.

He misses her as his assistant of course, that much hasn't changed. Gretchen, dare he say it, is almost as competent as Donna and tolerates his crap even less. He likes that. But it lacks the ease of his relationship with Donna, that effortless comradery they built over a decade-long foundation of partnership.

More than once he has caught himself doing something idiotic like calling out Donna's name from his office without giving it any thought. He'd been by himself the first time and if she heard, Gretchen thankfully ignored it. Mike had been in his office the second time he slipped up. He could hardly stand the look of pity that flashed across Mike's face before he had the decency to mask it.

He'd even accidentally called her several times before he finally deleted her from his speed dial.

(She never did call him back)

Learned behaviours, Doctor Agard had called them. She said it was only natural given how long they had worked in tandem with one another. Harvey had reluctantly begun seeing his therapist once a week since he had another episode a month ago (read: the morning Donna came to his condo). She's irritatingly observant, and basically has a degree in translating bullshit. Harvey sometimes longs for the days when people would take all of his lies on faith.

Dr Agard at least closer to believing him now when he says he's no longer in denial about Donna leaving (and coming back). He's not in denial, but denial was a hell of a lot more comforting than reality. And yes, he realises that is the point.

Harvey wonders if maybe Donna has slipped up too; if she has answered Louis' phone with her usual, "Harvey Specter's office" or if she has stepped off the elevator and walked directly to her old desk on instinct.

Probably not. Even if she has, her composure is far better than his.

* * *

"Mike, what the hell am I looking at?"

"It's an invitation."

"To your engagement party."

Harvey stares at the white and gold invitation with perfect calligraphy. Mike clearly didn't have any part in preparing them.

"Then why did you bring it to me disguised in a case folder?"

Mike grins, pleased with himself. He sits down on the chair opposite Harvey's and says, "So you'd actually take it."

"Well aren't you clever." Harvey inspects the date on the invitation. "It's tonight."

Mike nods. Harvey tosses the invite aside. "Did someone cancel? You need to fill a seat?"

Mike laughs. "There are no seats, Harvey. I gave it to you now as opposed to three weeks ago, which would have given you ample time to create an excuse that kept you from coming."

Harvey smirks, knowing that was exactly what he would have done.

"I have plans."

"No you don't, I already cleared this with your secretary when I sent out the invites so she wouldn't schedule anything past six o'clock tonight."

Mike still looks thoroughly pleased with himself.

"She hasn't been here two months and already you have her doing favours for you?"

He scoffs. "Donna was doing favours for me when I started." Mike's eyes widen, he clears his throat. _For Christ's sake, he's not made of glass._

"Relax Mike, you're allowed to say her name. She's not dead."

"Well you two don't seem to be on speaking terms so I didn't want to overstep…"

Harvey waves him off. "We're fine."

Mike obviously doesn't believe his half-assed lie. "But what about what you said to Louis? You were determined to get her back."

Harvey stands and paces over to the door, more than ready to end the sudden interrogation. "Forget about what I said to Louis. He can have her."

Mike stands and makes for the exit. "Harvey, I didn't mean to –"

"I've got work to do."

On his way out Mike asks, "Will you come tonight?"

"I'll see if I can make it."

Mike leaves, rolling his eyes on the way out. Harvey closes the door to his office, pointedly ignoring the way Gretchen shakes her head at him.

* * *

As much as Harvey will begrudgingly admit how much he has come to care about these two people, the last thing he wants to do is attend their engagement party and be forced to make small talk, when really all he wants to do is hide away in a dimly lit bar, drink himself into oblivion or perhaps fuck the first attractive woman he sees.

Aside from several young law students and a few of Rachel's friends and family, Harvey feels as if he's just walked into a company-wide staff meeting at the firm.

There are several faces he recognises, but most names elude him. Jessica would tell him to make a more consorted effort to get to know _all_ of their employees, i.e. not only those that are useful to him. Rachel greets him in the living room looking flustered. Only she would be too stressed to enjoy a party thrown in her honour.

"Harvey you came," she says with a surprise.

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly and hands her a bottle of red wine. He hasn't a clue about red wine but he took a shot and bought the oldest, most expensive bottle he could find.

"Congratulations. I know Donna probably already gave you a gift from me…"

Rachel laughs nervously and accepts the bottle, "Wow thank you...you didn't have to."

They share an awkward moment of silence. The concept of seeing Rachel outside of the office is still a foreign one, and short of work, Mike and Donna, there aren't a whole lot of topics they can discuss. Mike wanders over and saves them from the embarrassment of having to make small talk.

"Oh, I guess your plans got cancelled."

"Where's the bar?"

"It's lovely to see you too, Harvey," Mike says dramatically, clutching his chest. "I'm sure there's an apology buried somewhere in there."

"Kitchen?"

"Yeah, come on."

Mike leans over to his fiancé to briefly kiss her temple. It's a little strange. Harvey still isn't used to seeing the two of them behave like a couple – outside of longing gazes at the office, that is. Mike directs Harvey to the kitchen and hands him a beer from the fridge.

Harvey glares at the bottle in his hand. "I didn't realise we were at a frat party."

Mike twists the cap on his own bottle. "When you're brooding in your office you drink scotch, when you're at a party you drink beer."

"I do not brood."

Mike scoffs, "Yeah, okay."

Harvey takes a long swig. "I'm surprised Rachel even keeps Budweiser in the house."

Mike groans, "I think I've had enough red wine for a lifetime."

Harvey smirks. "You're stuck with it now."

Mike smiles fondly and Harvey fights the urge to roll his eyes at the sickening display.

"Seriously Harvey, thanks for coming. Sorry I had to con you into it," he smiles sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it, I was a dick anyway."

Mike clinks his beer bottle with Harvey's. "Glad we can agree, then."

* * *

She has managed to convince herself that tonight is not a big deal. It's a celebration for two of her closest friends and colleagues, and she's going to plaster a smile on her face and be happy for them, goddammit. Donna is far from self-involved; this is not about her and she will not make it about her.

 _Or him. Or them._

This theoretically shouldn't be a problem because there hasn't been a 'them' for months.

They've successfully managed to avoid crossing paths at the office, but this will be the first time they have even seen each other outside of work since…the night he told her he loved her. She represses the thought as quickly as it came. Donna has made a rule of not thinking about that night.

 _Just like the other time…_

It doesn't matter. She's dressed to the nines in a gorgeous, blue-laced Valentino dress that she splurged on after she received her first pay check from Louis (sans that Harvey-bonus) and her hair hangs in soft, loose waves around her shoulders.

She spots Rachel the moment she enters hers and Mike's apartment, and despite frantically running around trying to be a good hostess, her friend is glowing. It's more than enough to lift her sour mood and the smile that spreads across Donna's face is anything but false.

Rachel grins excitedly and rushes over to greet her. She hugs Donna fiercely.

"Oh Rach, you look gorgeous," Donna gushes.

Rachel pulls back from Donna and looks at her. "Somehow I think I'm being upstaged."

Donna laughs easily. "This engagement has made you delirious. Can you put the brakes on for five minutes and have a drink?"

Rachel releases a long breath. "Absolutely."

The two women share a quiet toast in the living room, sipping on deliciously sweet champagne, ignoring the vast number of guests around them.

Donna feels a pang of guilt and says, "I'm sorry I haven't taken you out for celebratory drinks yet."

"We've both been busy," Rachel says carefully.

"That's no excuse. I've been a lousy friend the past couple of weeks."

And it's true. Donna has been so wrapped up in her own drama that she hasn't made any real time for Rachel. Seeing her now only makes her realise all the more how much she has missed her company.

"Well you can make it up to me as my maid of honour."

Donna's lips curl into a bright smile. "Oh Rach…"

"Is that a yes?"

"Are you crazy? Of course it's a yes!"

"I have to warn you though, it may be kind of a big job. We want to get married in four months."

Donna gasps. "Oh god, you're pregnant?" she half jokes.

Rachel actually looks alarmed at the thought. "No, no, no, it's not that. You know that I've almost finished my first year, so it makes sense to get married over the break. I don't want to have to cram my wedding in between cases and lectures."

Donna lays a hand on her arm and says, dead serious, "I have been training for this my whole life."

"So you'll do it?"

Donna extracts her phone from her purse and types out three text messages at lightning speed.

"Donna?"

"Oh sorry, I'm just collecting on a few favours I'm owed. There will be no waiting lists for this bride."

Rachel beams at her. "You know that's not why I asked you though, right?"

The two ladies share a smile. "Yeah, I know."

* * *

Harvey sees her the moment she walks through the door, though it's hard not to take notice of her in any crowd. But her eyes go straight to Rachel.

He realises a little too late that he and Mike had been in the middle of one of their quote-offs and he had stopped listening mid-sentence. Mike stares openly at him.

"What?" Harvey asks, annoyed.

Mike puts his hands up in defense, "I'm not saying a word."

Harvey sets his empty beer bottle down. "I need another drink."

"Something stronger, maybe?"

"Don't be a smartass. But yes."

Mike does him a solid and pours a generous helping of Whiskey into a tumbler and hands it to him. It tastes a little cheap, but there is something to be said about that old saying, 'beggars can't be choosers'.

"You don't have to babysit me, Mike."

Mike scratches the back of his neck, nervously glancing at his feet. Harvey picks up on the cue instantly.

"Look, Mike, if this is about that panic attack…"

"It's not," Mike assures him. "But, now that you mention it, it has been a few weeks since it happened…"

"I'm dealing with it," Harvey tells him, effectively ending the discussion.

"Good. That's great, Harvey."

Harvey takes a swig of his Whiskey.

"But there's something kind of important I wanted to ask you," Mike continues.

"I don't think you're allowed to propose to me when you're already engaged."

"Oh, you're a comedian now?"

"Is this the part where you ask me to be your best man?" he says with a derisive laugh.

"Uh, yeah actually."

Harvey almost does a double take. "I was kidding."

"Well who else would it be?"

"Your new lunch-buddy Robert Zane?"

"He already said no."

"Oh, you're a comedian now?"

Mike sips thoughtfully on his beer. "So?" he asks, mid-swallow.

"You really know how to make a guy feel special."

"I'm going to take that as a yes."

Harvey slaps Mike on the shoulder, almost causing the younger man to do a spit take. He lets out the first real laugh he's had in weeks.

"So who are your groomsmen?" he asks.

"Harold and Jimmy."

Harvey vaguely remembers the two associates. Clearly they never made much of an impression.

"You're kidding? They were my competition?"

"Yeah, Harold almost had the edge there."

Rachel suddenly appears at Mike's side, shooting them both an apologetic look. Mike is quick to decipher its meaning.

"Your dad wants to make a speech doesn't he?" he says with a groan.

"He's in the dining room. I promise it will be painless," she assures him, not quite believing her own words.

Harvey sees the guests slowly migrate towards the dining room.

"You know he's going to –"

"Share embarrassing stories about me?"

"At least two."

"Well I'm sure he has a few words to say about you as well."

Mike's eyes widen.

"Yeah, he's definitely going to bring that up," Rachel teases.

Harvey notices the two of them reach for the other's hand almost in sync. He's a little surprised by how well they fit together; they have inside jokes, they have that weird kind of telepathy that allows them to finish each other's sentences. They _know_ each other. Harvey has never really seen it play out in front of him before.

Harvey follows the pair as they gravitate to the dining room. Their apartment isn't humble by any means, but it isn't spacious enough for every guest to spread out, so it just fucking figures that he finds himself pressed up against Donna.

To her credit, Donna barely reacts when he bumps into her.

"Harvey," she says smoothly. "Nice to see you."

 _Nice?_ Is that what twelve years together amounts to? _Fucking pleasantries?_

"You too," he says just as perfunctorily.

Robert Zane's deep voice cuts through the room. Say what you will about the man (and Harvey certainly has) he knows how to own a room. He stands beside a semi-embarrassed Rachel, who's arm is circled around a nervous Mike.

"As much as my daughter has begged me not to, I'd like to take a moment to say a few words."

Harvey's gaze flicks to Donna, he can practically see her eyes glaze over. She always hated having to listen to speeches at any kind of event or fundraiser, especially the kind that started out with "I'd like to say a few words" then proceeded to drag on for fifteen minutes. They used to endure them together by quietly mocking the speaker. Harvey almost speaks, but bites his tongue. Just another one of those _learned behaviours_ he can't seem to curb.

He doesn't pay much attention to what Robert is saying, too focused on trying to _not_ pay attention to Donna. He does catch the end of the speech though;

"Every father has the opinion that no man will ever be good enough for his daughter. When I said this to Rachel she said that she didn't need my approval, because she loved Mike."

Mike and Rachel smile at one another.

"When I asked her why," he pauses when the crowd laughs, then says, "She told me it was because they were partners."

Harvey catches Donna's eye right at that moment. It doesn't last, and she slinks away only a second later.

"That's all I've ever wanted for my baby girl," Robert finishes. "Congratulations, you two."

Rachel hugs her father and Mike shakes the man's hand. As the crowd claps, Harvey uses that opportunity to make his escape.

He ventures toward the bathroom, eager to have even just a moment to himself before he can go find Mike and make up an excuse that involves him having to leave.

He opens the door and steps inside, surprised to find Donna sitting on the edge of the bathtub, cradling a glass of wine in her hands. The intrusion startles her and she looks up sharply.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," he starts. "I don't actually need to…I just needed a break from…the crowd," he finishes lamely.

She abandons her glass, straightens her dress – she looks incredible – and stands up.

"I'll leave you to it," she says.

He's not entirely sure why it's this moment in particular, but her indifference finally causes him to snap.

"So we're not even friends anymore?"

She halts in her haste to exit. "Harvey…"

"It's nice to see you?!" he mimics. "That's what you say to an acquaintance, not somebody you've been through everything with," he spits out.

She bites her lip and eyes the bathroom door. "Can we please not have this conversation here?" she asks exasperatedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot that we can only ever argue on your terms."

"That's not fair."

"What's 'not fair' is you treating me like I'm a stranger. Really, Donna, haven't you twisted the knife enough already?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" she fires back.

Harvey slams his drink on the basin, not caring if Whiskey sloshes all over Mike and Rachel's tiles.

"You couldn't just quit, that wasn't punishment enough!"

"Because I couldn't just cut myself off from you!" She screams back at him.

They're full-blown yelling at this point, and only after they're both finished does he realise that he's finally saying what he could only tell his therapist in a role play.

The silence outside the door alerts him to the fact that they have been heard.

"Then why is tonight the first time we've had a conversation in over a month?" he asks.

She quirks an eyebrow at him. "You call this a conversation?"

"No, I call this a fight."

"We're getting good at those," she says, almost sadly.

"Donna, we've always excelled at fighting."

She nods in agreement, a ghost of a smile on her face. "I'm tired of fighting," she admits.

And so is he, tired of fighting, tired of being angry at her, at himself. Tired of missing her, most of all.

And it's not that he misses the way she used to organise his life or how she would anticipate he needs before he was even conscious of them. Even though it used to be unthinkable, that job can be performed by somebody else. It's everything else he misses; her wicked sense of humour, her inflated ego, her tenacity, her boldness, her deep laugh – _just her._

"So what now?" he eventually asks.

"We start over."

"As friends?"

"Yeah. Think you can handle it?"

"I guess time will tell," he teases.

A sharp rap on the door interrupts them, followed by Mike's muffled voice, "Uh guys? You haven't killed each other have you?"

"Jesus," Harvey mutters.

"I only heard one voice," Mike says through the door.

"You can relax, Mike," Donna answers. "I better go find Rachel and apologise," she tells Harvey.

He gestures to tiles, sticky with cheap Whiskey. "Yeah, I better clean this up."

His eyes linger on her a moment longer. "I'll see you Monday?" he tentatively asks.

"Monday," she affirms.


End file.
